The Atlantis dunes disaster in slow motion

The Atlantis Dunes, officially called the Witzands Aquifer Nature Reserve, should be a showcase of Cape Town’s tourism potential. Instead, it’s become a showcase of how bad governance and bureaucratic stubbornness can strangle small businesses, destroy livelihoods, and embarrass a city that constantly brags about being “pro-tourism.”

For years, sandboarding and quad biking operators have built a thriving adventure economy in the dunes, attracting both international tourists and local families. These operators are registered, vetted, tax-paying businesses. They invest in safety, staff training, and compliance. They are, in short, exactly the kind of small businesses the City claims to support.

And yet, City officials decided the best way to “manage” the dunes was by inventing arbitrary permit caps and outdated rules, using “biodiversity” and “overcrowding” as excuses, while ignoring the real problem: their own mismanagement.

Instead of investing in enforcement against rogue operators who break the rules, the City applied a blunt instrument: drastic permit limits.

• Quad biking permits capped at 275 per day.
• Sandboarding permits capped at just 80.
• Vehicle permits capped at 80.
• Operators restricted to only 50% of that total.

Add to this the absurdity of having no online booking system, in 2025, forcing operators and clients into queues at a permit office that closes for lunch and often doesn’t even work.

Then there’s the hypocrisy: the dunes are closed to legal quad biking and sandboarding operators on Mondays, but the public and film shoots are still allowed in. If this were really about conservation, why the double standard?

The Illegal operator problem

The City’s refusal to enforce existing rules has created another disaster: a free-for-all for illegal operators.

Law-abiding businesses, those that pay VAT, register staff, meet safety standards, and carry first aid certifications, are forced to compete with opportunistic operators who do none of the above. Many operate without work visas, safety protocols, or even basic compliance. Some turn up with dozens of quad bikes, flooding the car park and running tours that break every rule in the book.

And yet, these are the same bad actors the City allows to continue unchecked. In fact, they’re part of the justification officials now use to punish everyone. Instead of targeting the culprits, they’ve opted to throttle the entire industry.

The result? Responsible, tax-paying operators are pushed toward closure, while opportunists who ignore the rules continue to hog the tourism space. It’s the exact opposite of fairness and a recipe for reputational damage to Cape Town tourism.

Update on the dunes situation

After sustained pressure from operators and their legal team, the City has finally blinked.

• From September 10 , Clause 10 of the Codes of Conduct will be suspended.
• This means no more permit limits and businesses can operate seven days a week.
• Until then, only 55 permits remain and will be handed out on a first-come, first-served basis.
• From September 15, the dunes will be open daily.
• This interim arrangement runs until October 20, or until a “final resolution” is reached.

This is a temporary reprieve but it doesn’t solve the underlying issues.

The new fear: Death by a thousand closures

The City is now floating the idea of moving the “closed day” from Monday to Wednesday. Operators are resisting it and they’re right to do so. Because once you allow officials to close the dunes one day a week “for admin” or “noise concerns,” what stops them from closing two days a week? Or three?

It’s a slippery slope where convenience for officials trumps livelihoods for businesses. Staff are already on duty seven days a week. Closing the dunes isn’t about conservation or tourism management. It’s about making life easier for bureaucrats at the expense of everyone else.

Why this matters beyond the Dunes

The dunes represent something bigger: the City’s attitude toward small businesses. Here we have a DA-controlled municipality and province, the very ones who campaign on “cutting red tape”, implementing some of the most arbitrary, job-killing red tape imaginable.

The money from permits doesn’t even go back into managing the dunes. It disappears into City coffers, while dune staff remain underfunded and enforcement non-existent. The City built a R40 million CapeNature office block where the parking lot used to be, halving parking capacity, then claimed “overcrowding” was the problem. It would be funny if it weren’t so tragic.

The Atlantis Dunes should be a tourism success story. Instead, it’s become a cautionary tale.

Yes, the suspension of Clause 10 is a victory for operators. But the fact that it took legal threats, media pressure, and years of ignored proposals to reach this point shows just how little faith small businesses can place in the City’s promises.

Cape Town doesn’t have a tourism crisis. It has a governance crisis. And until that changes, we’ll keep seeing stories like this where the people doing things right are punished, while incompetence and red tape thrive.

* Emilio, is a Filmmaker

Cape Argus